Urban Mythic: Thirteen Novels of Adventure and Romance, featuring Norse and Greek Gods, Demons and Djinn, Angels, Fairies, Vampires, and Werewolves in the Modern World

by C. Gockel

  Do you want advice or approval, Priestess?

  "Either," Victoria muttered. "Both."

  Across from her, Jake Barrett frowned. Those penetrating eyes locked on her face, and the man gave the impression of uncanny awareness. As if he could hear their entire conversation.

  Spooked, Victoria shuddered and dismissed the possibility. Her overactive imagination always got the better of her. Mouth open, Victoria lowered her face closer to Skinner's shoulder and inhaled his scent. Her wolf surfaced. Golden light spilled from her eyes, but her transformation progressed no further.

  Bracing, she summoned her healing magic. A soft halo emanated from her palms. The moment her fingers touched his bare skin, Skinner's life pattern lit up. She perceived the lacerations to flesh and muscle, internal bleeding, and shattered bones. He had lost an enormous amount of blood, and his body was in shock.

  "He's dying." Her mouth turned down at the corners. "I'm not sure I can save him."

  "I once saw your mother heal a man who'd been all but cut in half," Jake said. "She brought your father back from the dead."

  Victoria cut him off. "I'm not my mother. My skills as a healer are minimal. I can mend cuts and bruises—"

  "You help him!" Jake's eyes narrowed, and his fists rose even as his volume dropped to a dangerous low. He left the or else hanging, but the implied threat was clear.

  Distressed, Victoria reached again for Freya. Goddess? Please? Do I have your permission to do this?

  You didn't seek my permission when you attempted to heal Daniel.

  Taken aback, Victoria blinked. Her mouth opened. No sound emerged. Freya hadn't brought up Victoria's failed attempts to heal Daniel before he'd died. Not once in the last couple of weeks, not even a hint of disapproval or reprimand. Belatedly, she realized she should have sought permission. Bittersweet acknowledgement prevented her from apologizing.

  She'd do so all over again in a heartbeat.

  Freya sighed. Do what you must. Know this: I cannot heal him for you.

  I understand. Thank you, Goddess. Unshed tears stung her eyes. She lowered her face to hide her sorrow. The light flowing from her hands intensified, illuminating the man's injury. She extended her power and joined her soul to Skinner's. Concentrating, she drew his life pattern into synchronization with her own. Her steady heartbeat stabilized his erratic pulse.

  Even unconscious, the stubborn human fought her. He resisted her efforts to impose spiritual and physical harmony between them. Skinner gasped, and his entire body convulsed while he fought to shake off her touch. She employed her superior strength to hold him down so his struggles would not worsen the wound. Without the direct support of Freya or her pack, there was no margin for error.

  Damn it, she hated asking for help, but she had no other options. Scowling, Victoria extended an open hand toward Jake. "You know how this works. I'm already drained from the fight with the krampus, and my pack isn't here to help me."

  "Fuck that." Jake held back. Distrust tainted his scent. Negative sentiment streaked his aura.

  "He's your friend," Victoria said. "Do you want him to live?"

  The Hunter King was a storm about to rage. A fierce, brief battle waged across his countenance. In the end, loyalty won over hatred. He spat out a curse and grabbed hold of her hand, enveloping it within his callused grip.

  The moment they touched, Victoria reached for his power, seeking to forge a temporary bond between them. Under normal circumstances, she would have refused to even attempt it. The man was human and her enemy. This situation, however, was desperate. Besides, she doubted the connection could survive so much animosity for long.

  The force of his personality knocked her off kilter. Victoria gasped and almost dropped the fragile spell bridging their souls. For a human, Jake Barrett possessed a staggering amount of personal power. It was widely known the hunter commanded powerful magic, but he craftily concealed the true extent. Through some arcane art, not just hundreds, but thousands of men were mystically bound to him. Superficially, their connection resembled the pack bond in underlying structure. She'd have loved to explore it further. Even if she had that ability, there was no time.

  Tuning out the others, she concentrated on the Hunter King. At the center of his soul, she encountered a core of pure pain, agonizing sorrow for the death of his son... and so much anger. She hurt for him and with him, and yet she wanted nothing more than to rip his beating heart from his breast. He had killed her parents and many members of her pack.

  A good man, but also a vengeful man.

  She must never forget. Tears stung her eyes, and her throat closed. Through an act of will, Victoria shoved her personal feelings down deep and sealed them behind a wall. Instead of turning from Jake Barrett's hatred, she embraced it. She summoned and channeled the dark emotions, transforming them into healing energy.

  Victoria mapped out the major severed blood vessels and halted the internal bleeding. She repaired the most vital veins and arteries first. Then she strengthened the bone in his shattered shoulder blade. Her technique was crude. If he lived, he would still require medical attention.

  Too quickly, she depleted her reserves, leaving her weakened. Jake's true potential remained almost untapped, and that frightened her worse than ever before. The Hunter King wasn't a mere mortal, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know more about him.

  Gasping, Victoria let go of Jake's hand and severed the bond uniting them. She maintained her connection to Skinner long enough to verify he would live. For magical healing, her work qualified as battle field triage. She had done what was necessary to keep the man alive until he could receive proper treatment.

  She removed her hands from Skinner's chest and allowed the magic to dissipate. "He'll live, for now. You need to get him to a doctor," she said, looking at Jake. "I couldn't fix everything."

  The man's expression was unreadable. He stared at her with hard eyes and nodded. "Those children need to be taken to safety too. We'll take them in and then we'll go get your boy."

  Balking, Victoria shot to her feet. "No. No way. I'm not walking into an area full of your men and getting shot on sight."

  Clenched jaws and gleaming eyes signaled the return of his anger. "My men will obey me."

  She snorted. "But your son won't, will he? I'll bet my canines that Sawyer isn't here now because he'd as soon kill me as look at me. You want me alive to answer your questions, but he just wants me dead."

  The last time she had come face to face with Sawyer, he had opened fire on a street crowded with innocent people. The time before that, he had lobbed a hand grenade at her. She didn't expect his next reception to be any warmer. In her heart, she preferred to avoid him at all costs. Not because she feared him. She simply didn't want to be the one to murder Daniel's brother.

  Jake's nostrils flared. "Sawyer is convinced you murdered Daniel in cold blood. Me..."

  Her heart leapt at the unexpected ray of hope. If Jake Barrett was willing to listen, then perhaps she could explain Daniel's death. Maybe peace could be restored, maybe no one else needed to die.

  "But you?" Victoria imposed blankness on her face, desperate not to reveal too much. She couldn't afford to show her cards. Not while Jasper remained a hostage to the hunters.

  "I have my doubts."

  Victoria exhaled. Oh yeah, dangerous, seductive hope. She dared not let down her guard around this man. "What will happen to the children?"

  "For tonight, I'll take them to one of my people. We'll get them cleaned up and fed. You don't need to worry. We'll keep them safe until we can take them home."

  "How do you intend to reunite them with their parents?" Much like her, young Michael had no one to go home to.

  "I have friends in law enforcement," Jake said. "We'll keep this out of the press. If the children have families, I'll see to it they're reunited. If not, they won't wind up in the system. There are families willing to take in orphans."

  She frowned. "They'd be raised by hunters."

 
His teeth flashed in a fierce grin. "Better than being raised by wolves."

  Victoria's frown morphed to a glare. "So you say."

  "At least they'd have adults around them who will understand the nature of their trauma," Jake said. "Adults who know monsters are real. These kids are gonna suffer from nightmares for the rest of their lives."

  The man had the right of it.

  She preferred to let the matter drop. "Okay."

  "I'll drop Skinner at the hospital and get the children to safety," Jake said. "I'll meet you back here with the boy. Don't do anything stupid, like calling your pack."

  "I won't," Victoria had already considered and rejected the idea of calling for help. Rand and the others would refuse to give her up without a fight. Another confrontation with the hunters would likely get the rest of her people killed.

  With any luck, the others were well on the way to Santa Fe. Still, she worried about them. They hadn't responded to her distress while she battled the krampus. They were either too far away or experiencing troubles of their own.

  Too weary for further discussion, she helped Jake move Skinner into the front passenger seat of his vehicle. Offering assurances, she buckled the three children into the back seat. Sorrow closed like a hand on her throat. She barely managed to bid them goodbye without crying.

  Following Jake, she circled to the front of the vehicle. "When will you be back?"

  "I'll be an hour." Jake regarded her with hard eyes.

  Victoria didn’t look away from the man’s relentless stare. Her lips pulled back to reveal her teeth. "So help me, if you've harmed a hair on Jasper's head, I'll drag your soul to hell and pitch you in head first."

  "Understood." The corner of his mouth tugged in what might have been a reluctant smile, but he turned away too soon.

  While she watched, he climbed into the vehicle to take the children, the stray dog, and his injured friend to safety. Over the steering wheel, their gazes locked in a final unsettling stare before he drove away. Afterward, she blew out a breath she hadn't known was held.

  For an hour, Victoria paced the perimeter of the parking lot. Time ticked past, one excruciating minute after another. The rain resumed, falling in a heavy downpour, and she took shelter against the side of the building beneath an overhang. After a couple minutes, a steady waterfall poured over the eaves.

  As she waited, the tempest worsened. Legs of lightning supported the angry thunderclaps as they marched east. Victoria worried her lower lip, struggling to evade the bittersweet press of memories. No matter how hard she tried, the past remained inescapable and ever-present. The harder she tried not to think about Daniel, the more he occupied her thoughts.

  Everything reminded her of him, especially storms.

  Daniel had loved the spectacular lightning squalls that lit up the Arizona desert during the summer months. In defiance of safety and common sense, he always rushed outside and turned his face toward the sky. Wearing a maddened grin, he stood there until the wind blasted his hair back and water slicked it against his skull.

  Despite her fears and reluctance, Daniel had chased her long and hard. Months slipped past, and his persistence gradually wore down her resistance. As summer turned into fall, they spent more and more time together. They retreated to the desert, far from the prying eyes of the people who would have disapproved.

  "The thing I love best about Arizona is the sunsets," Victoria mused with a smile. Glorious strips of orange and red streaked the horizon just above the mountains to the west. Higher in the sky, purple clouds formed a wavy weave. A forceful wind blew from the east, and sturdy Saguaro cacti raised their thick arms in defiance. Dark storm clouds roiled in the east–a brooding monsoon moving off the Gulf of Mexico. In August, the remarkable storms arrived regularly in the late afternoon to early evenings.

  She and Daniel lay side by side stretched out across the hood of the Chevelle. The heated metal warmed her back, and the muscular bicep of the man beside her served as a solid headrest. Contented, she wallowed in the fragile, fleeting wink of happiness. Perfect moments carried a momentous value that few people understood or properly cherished.

  "Look at that!" Daniel jerked upright and flung his arm toward the east where bright lancing bolts arced from the sky to strike the ground below.

  Disgruntled at losing her pillow, she sat up. "It's just another thunderstorm."

  Miles distant, the vista lit with a lightning flash. Thunder followed in a lazy roll, a deep percussion booming. Victoria scented the air but smelled more wind-borne dust than moisture. She doubted the tempest carried much rain in its wide arms.

  "It's more than that." Grinning, Daniel captured her wrist and dragged her hand toward him. He positioned her palm over his heart. "Do you feel that?"

  Strong. Throbbing. Passion. Power.

  The essence of the man.

  She nodded her head, convinced she did indeed understand. He stole her breath much as he'd stolen her heart. To protect herself, she fostered an easy smile and twisted to glance over her shoulder. "We'd better put the top up."

  His hand caught the side of her head, fingers spread wide and points positioned behind her ear, pinky tucked beneath her jaw. He captured her gaze. "The thing I love best about Arizona is you."

  Her grin faltered. So much raw determination in his chocolate brown eyes. Always one to do things the difficult way, Victoria challenged him. "Only in Arizona?"

  "Always. Forever." He leaned in and kissed her. Claimed her.

  Their lips parted. She exhaled on his indrawn breath. "I love you too."

  Fuck. Victoria ripped her mind from the reverie and took a shaky step. She forced her clenched fists to open. Sucking down a soggy breath, she abandoned the shelter of the eaves and walked into the rain. Droplets struck her face and washed away her tears.

  Desperate for a distraction, she checked the time. An hour and a half since Jake had left. She wondered where he was, and her imagination conjured all sorts of awful scenarios for why he hadn't returned yet. Finally, she couldn't take the not knowing anymore. Abandoning her resolution not to contact her pack, she gripped her phone and made the call.

  Sylvie answered on the first ring. Her tight voice conveyed distress tempered by relief. "Thank the goddess, Victory. Where have you been? Do you have Jasper? We've been worried sick waiting for you to call."

  She smiled at the welcome sound of her friend's voice. "I'm fine. I don't have Jasper yet, but we slayed the monster and saved the kidnapped children. Is Rand okay?"

  "Still as ornery as ever." A telltale pause followed, and then Sylvie asked, "We?"

  "Jake Barrett."

  The Skald groaned. "I suppose it's a blessing you're still alive."

  "I'm working on getting Jasper back." Victoria infused her voice with confidence she didn't really feel. "Where are you?"

  "We're on the northern outskirts of town," Sylvie said. "We couldn't go any farther without losing all the bars on the phone."

  "The plan hasn't changed," Victoria said. "Wait there until dawn. If Jasper and I aren't back by sunrise, then head north to Santa Fe." Her voice caught in her throat. "Sylvie..."

  Sylvie's voice grew tight. "What is it, Victory?"

  "If I'm not back with Jasper, then you're to keep going. Don't allow Rand to come after me, even if you have to club him over the head. As your Alpha, that's an order. Do you understand me?"

  The silence bristled with disapproval, but Sylvie gave a clipped reply. "I understand."

  "Goddess watch over us," Victoria said, sending a quick prayer to Freya.

  Sounding displeased, Sylvie echoed her words. "Goddess watch over you, Victoria Storm."

  They ended the call.

  She checked the clock on her phone and saw the hunter had been gone almost an hour and forty-five minutes. Her wolf roiled with turmoil. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, breaking skin, and she tasted the saltiness of blood on her tongue. Her instincts screamed something was wrong. She felt it in her gut.

 
Using her phone's call log, Victoria located Jake Barrett's number and hit dial. It rang twice before he answered.

  "Hold on a second." His heavy breathing indicated physical exertion. In the background, she heard men shouting. And Jasper's voice, full of fear and anger, rose in a yell, but his words were unrecognizable.

  "Barrett, what the hell is going on?" Fear crawled along the length of her spine, digging in with bony fingers. Dread pooled in her stomach.

  Jake shouted over Victoria's demands. "No, lower your weapons."

  "Damn it, Barrett, tell me—" Victoria's hands shook, and she feared her grip would crush the cell phone. She couldn't stand still. In desperation, she raced across the parking lot, running without direction.

  The blast of a shotgun deafened her.

  Victoria stumbled and stopped. Through the pack bond, she experienced Jasper's death as a blow to the heart, a severed limb, the demise of a soul. Shattered, an agonized howl tore from her throat, and she fell to her knees on the black pavement of the lot. Her cry of loss and sorrow rose above the din of city sounds, soaring into the night.

  Jasper dead. How? Why?

  Her pack experienced the boy's death also. Through their spiritual connection, she sensed her pack mates. She felt their rage and sorrow and heard their mourning howls even though they were miles distant, beyond the range of sound. When a child was lost, they all suffered.

  Victoria's howl ended on a gasp. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Sucking air into her starved lungs, she brought the phone to her face.

  "Why?" she asked, croaking the question.

  "He wasn't supposed to get hurt." Disbelief colored Jake’s voice.

  Rage. Cruel, vicious rage crashed through her heart, blinding her to all else. She hissed. "You're the same as that krampus, Jake Barrett, a child thief who murders innocents. If it's the last thing I do, I'll make you pay. I swear to my goddess and on my honor as a Valkyrie. I'll have revenge."

  Before he replied, she hurled the phone at the side of the building with all her immense strength. The device exploded into a hundred pieces. In that moment, she would have gladly ripped every member of the Barrett family to bloody shreds. She settled for destroying Jake's shirt instead.